


I Don't Want To Be Saved

by AmberFyre, devilswreckedchewtoy (AmberFyre)



Series: Not Enough [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU-season 3, Dean's Deal, M/M, Soul Bond, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberFyre/pseuds/AmberFyre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberFyre/pseuds/devilswreckedchewtoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has sworn to find some way to break the contract Dean made with the Crossroads Demon.  But an unexpected twist renders the contract invalid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Want To Be Saved

**Author's Note:**

> _Reposting under my new pseud. Originally posted January 2013_
> 
>  
> 
> This is the first fanfic I wrote for Supernatural, though it's the second I'm posting. Hope you enjoy. Comments appreciated.  
> Wincest forever!

_I don't want to be saved,_  
 _I want to go down with you_  
 _Together we will find a way to come back_

Lacuna Coil : “Not Enough”- Shallow Life

\--- -- ---

     Sam laid in the dark and quiet, listening to Dean sleep.  He could feel Dean’s breath on his chest, the warmth of his body laying next to him under the covers.  There was a time when he would have been happy to just go to sleep like that.  But the day was fast approaching and he hadn’t been able to find a way to break Dean’s deal.

     _Damn him!_

     The thought only had heat for a moment.  While he wished his brother hadn’t made the damn deal in the first place, he knew he’d have done the same thing if their positions had been reversed.  He couldn’t imagine life without Dean in it.  Couldn’t imagine it.  Wouldn’t imagine it.

     _I will find a fucking way._

     His arm tightened around Dean’s shoulders involuntarily.  Dean stirred a little at the slight jiggle.

     “Sammy?”

     His voice was sleep rough and went straight to Sam’s heart.

     “Sorry.  Didn’t mean to wake you.”

     “’S ok.”

     Dean lifted his head slightly, blinking in the dark motel room.  The only light came from a streetlight shining through the window and spilling onto the floor.  His green eyes were washed out to grey as he looked at Sam.

     Sam couldn’t resist cupping Dean’s face in his large hand.  Who’d have thought he’d ever have gotten larger than his big brother?  The brother who taught him how to clean a gun and throw a knife.  Who had always looked out for him.  Who constantly gave him shit about being an ‘emo-boy’ and a ‘girl’?

     Dean nuzzled into Sam’s hand, something he only did when he was really tired or having a rare moment of feeling openly affectionate.  That was usually Sam’s job.

     “Can’t you sleep?”

     Dean met Sam’s eyes, stared into them for a long minute, searching for something.  Sam didn’t know what Dean was searching for, but he obviously found it and smiled.  The almost invisible crow’s feet around his eyes crinkled up and Sam’s heart ached at the sweet smile Dean saved just for him.  Only him.

     “Just brooding.  Go back to sleep.  I’ll be right behind you.”

     Dean pressed a kiss into the hand on his face and then lay his head back down on Sam’s chest.  As he snuggled closer (another thing Sam can give him shit for tomorrow) Sam knew the only reason he got off the hook so easy was because Dean was more sleep than awake.

     Sam tried to settle down and sleep, but it was a long time in coming.  He kept thinking that he couldn’t live without Dean.  There was just no way.

 

\--- -- ---

 

     Driving down the highway, Dean glanced over at Sam.  He was staring out of the passenger window as though the fields of grass were worth deep study.  Hell, there weren’t even any cows or horses to make it a little less monotonous.

     One hand on the steering wheel, arm propped on the window, Dean tried not to fidget.  Sam had been silent since breakfast and it was starting to make Dean nervous.  Silences never last this long around Sam.  Not for any good reason.

     “Hey, we should try to find a job soon,” Dean tried.

     Sam didn’t say anything.  Just kept staring out at the damn grass like he could find the answers to life or something.

     Dean frowned.  This was not how he planned to spend his last fricking couple of months.  Sam all broody and silent for most of the day, when he wasn’t poring over books and looking online to find an answer that didn’t fucking exist.

     _Why can’t he just let it the fuck go?_

     But if Dean knew anything, he knew his little brother.  He knew Sam better than he knew anyone on the planet.  And Sam was one stubborn son of a bitch.  Didn’t know how to let things go.  Didn’t know when to accept the inevitable.

     Dean threw a glare Sam’s way before fixing his eyes on the highway.  Emo-boy wanted to be all silent and broody?  Fine.  Dean could play along.

     At least for a while.

     After two hours the silence was starting to wear on Dean’s nerves.  He kept cutting his eyes to the side to look at Sam’s profile…or the back of his head anyway.  He felt this nervous fluttering in his chest.  Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore.

     Dean pulled the Impala over onto the gravel shoulder and stopped the car.

     Sam looked at him in confusion when Dean turned the car off.

     “Dean, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

     “I know, genius.”

     “Then why the hell did we stop?”

     Dean turned to Sam and yelled, “Because I’m sick of the damn silent treatment, already!  Would you just fucking talk to me?”

     Sam studied Dean’s angry face.  Dean could feel the warmth under his skin where he knew he’d gone all red in the face.  He hadn’t planned to yell.  Had meant to try and be calm.  But that fluttery feeling in his chest – no it was not fear – would not leave him alone.

     He had to get Sam to talk to him.  Whatever else happened he had to know he had Sammy.  Had to know that if he was gonna stay sane.  Needed to know that so he could carry it with him.  Something to hold on to.

     Dean held Sam’s eyes, watching thoughts dance through the green-hazel of them.  Dean watched Sam slow blink once, twice, then really focus on Dean.  He glanced out of the window then back to Dean.

     “How long we been driving?”

     Sam’s voice was subdued.

     “’Bout two and a half hours, dude.  And not a word from you the whole damn time.”

     Dean watched a flush creep up Sam’s face.

     “Sorry, man.  I didn’t realize I’d been quiet for that long.”

     “What the fuck you thinking about that could silence you for two damn hours and not know?”

     Sam’s eyes slid away, suddenly unable to look Dean in the eye.  Dean felt it like a blow to the stomach.  All the air rushed out of him.  There’s only one thing Sam could have been thinking about that would make him unable to hold Dean’s eyes.

     Dean didn’t want to talk about Hell or the deal or anything related to it.  It wasn’t that he didn’t think about it.  He couldn’t help but think about it.  But he’d accepted that it was going to happen and he didn’t see any need to beleaguer the point.  Yeah, Sam was looking for an out, but Dean knew there wasn’t one.

     But Dean hadn’t had any fucking choice.  He couldn’t let Sam stay dead.

     _A world without Sammy in it doesn’t bear thinking about.  Doesn’t he know that?  Doesn’t he know I’d rather be in Hell and him here than him dead and me here?  I couldn’t fucking do that._

     Sam’s eyes slid back to Dean’s.

     “Look, man, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to give you the silent treatment.  Really.”

     Dean shook his head.  He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, held it for a minute then let it out, trying to let the anger go with it.  He didn’t want to be mad at Sam.  He didn’t want to be mad at all.

     He felt a tentative hand on his leg.  The slight touch gave him the shivers.  Only Sammy could do that to him.  Break down his defenses with a touch.

     Dean slowly opened his eyes and looked at Sam.  He was trying to hold his feelings in, but he must not have succeeded very well because Sam’s eyes softened.  He scooted over on the bench seat and cupped Dean’s face in his palm.  He tilted his head until Dean could feel Sam’s forehead meet his own.

     “I’m right here, Dean.  I’m not going anywhere, I swear.”

     Dean felt the fluttering in his chest subside at Sam’s words.  God, could this get anymore chick-flicky?  But Dean didn’t say anything, just stared into Sam’s eyes.

     He was both surprised and not when he felt Sam’s lips touch his.  He returned the kiss with interest.  Could never get tired of kissing Sam.  Could never get enough of Sam.

     When Sam pulled back, breaking the kiss, Dean almost whimpered.  Sam grinned at him.

     “Dude, I don’t wanna do this in the back seat again.  My legs are too long for that.  Just drive.  I’ll try to stop being so broody.”

     “Okay,” Dean said, still feeling dazed from the kiss.  No matter how many times Sam kissed him, he always felt like he was just waking up and finding out Santa left him everything he had ever wanted for Christmas.

     Sam laughed as Dean started the Impala and put her in gear.  Dean flushed a little, but truthfully he was glad to hear Sam’s laughter.

     They continued driving down the highway.

 

\--- -- ---

 

     The nightmares weren’t unexpected.  The closer they get to the day Dean’s contract is due, the more he had.  What was unexpected was that Sam was having them, too.

     The fifth night they both fight themselves awake, Dean gazed at his little brother.

     “There something you want to tell me, Sammy?”

     Dean’s voice was hoarse, like he’d been screaming.   Sam didn’t meet his eyes.  It wasn’t so much because he was trying to hide anything.  As far as he knew, he hadn’t done a damn thing.  But it was too coincidental that he and Dean were waking up at the same damn time every night.

     _What the hell is going on?_

     “Look, Dean, I haven’t done anything.  I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

     Dean sat up and switched on the bedside lamp.  Then he turned to Sam, suspicion on his face.

     “You didn’t do anything?”

     Sam slowly sat up as well and met Dean’s angry eyes.  “What the fuck would I have done?  Every demon I’ve talked to says no one can break your damn deal.”

     “I don’t know, maybe made one of your own.”

     Sam flinched a little.  Not because he had, but because he’d thought about it.  He’d rather be in Hell with Dean than here by himself.  But he also knew Dean would kick him into next week if he did something like that, so he hadn’t.

     “I swear Dean, I haven’t made any deals.  Didn’t figure you’d want me to.  All I know is you started having nightmares about the Pit and so did I.”

     Dean’s eyes narrowed.  “How do you know I been dreaming about the Pit?  I haven’t told you fuck all about it.  So how the fuck do you know?”

     Sam was quiet.  He hadn’t been sure Dean had been dreaming about the Pit, but he’d had a hunch and that hunch was just confirmed.

     He held Dean’s eyes for a long moment, then glanced away and said softly, “I think we’re sharing dreams, Dean.  At least…I was dreaming about the Pit.  And we both keep waking up at the same time.”

     Dean was quiet for a moment, the anger draining out of him.  Sam chanced a glance at his brother.  Dean was staring at him.

     “Okay, so we know why I’m dreaming about this shit.  Why are you sharing in it?  That doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard of.”

     Sam didn’t like the suspicious tone in Dean’s voice.  Even though he wasn’t radiating anger anymore, Sam could tell Dean was still thinking Sam had actually done something.

     _God I wish there was something I could have done.  I would even trade places with him.  But that wouldn’t solve the problem.  He got into this damn deal to bring me back._

     “Maybe it’s because I used to have visions, you know?  Maybe I’m picking shit up from you because we’ve gotten closer.”

     “I thought you haven’t been having any visions since…”  Dean’s voice trailed off.

     “I haven’t been, but I don’t know what else to tell you.  I don’t know what other reason I’d be having your dreams of the Pit.”

     Dean gazed at Sam.   Sam was hunched in on himself, trying to make as small a target of himself as possible.  He didn’t think Dean was gonna hit him, but he also couldn’t think past the lame ass excuse he just handed Dean.

     Sam didn’t think for a minute that sharing Dean’s dreams had anything to do with his visions.  But he wasn’t near ready to look deep enough into himself to figure out the real reason.  He didn’t want to fight with Dean.  They didn’t have enough time left.

     Sam felt Dean reach out and touch his shoulder.  He just managed not to flinch.

     “Sammy, you’d tell me, right?  You’d tell me if you made some kind of deal yourself, right?”

     Sam’s eyes flew to Dean’s.  He swallowed hard and said, “Yeah.  I’d tell you.”

     _I wish there was something to tell.  Even an ass-kicking would be worth it if it saved him._

     Dean sighed deeply.  He ran his hand from Sam’s shoulder to his neck and let it rest there.

     “I believe you.”  Dean’s voice was quiet, subdued.  He shook his head and scooted back next to Sam.  He wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and held him close for a few minutes in silence.  Sam just closed his eyes and let himself be held.

     “C’mon.  Let’s try and sleep some more,” Dean said.

     Sam and Dean slid down into the bed and got comfortable.  Dean clicked the light off and then snuggled into Sam’s side, something he’d been doing more.  Sam wasn’t going to complain.  He kissed the top of his brother’s head and held him close.

     _I would like to know why we’re sharing dreams.  What the fuck could it possibly mean?_

     Sam had no fucking clue how to answer his own question.

 

\--- -- --- -- ---

 

 

     Ten days later both brothers were exhausted.  Neither one of them was getting more than three hours of sleep a night.  Dean was starting to learn that constant sleep deprivation was not fun.  They’d had to give up on hunts.  The last routine salt and burn had been anything but routine.  With them both so tired, the ghost had managed to kick their asses because their reflexes were so slow.  By the time Sam had finally dropped the match into the grave they both had a spectacular collection of bruises.

     That was four days ago.  Dean gazed at the bruises on Sam’s face and the dark shadows under his eyes.  He didn’t like it that Sam woke screaming from the same dreams he was having.  Didn’t like it at all.  Finally he said, “Maybe we should go see Missouri Mosley.”

     Sam looked up from his laptop.  “What for?”

     Dean shrugged.  “Maybe so we can figure out why you’re having nightmares.  I made that deal to bring you back, Sam.  If the demons are trying something funny I want to know what the fuck it is.”

     Sam rolled his eyes.  “I doubt the demons are doing a damn thing.”  But then he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.  “But maybe you have a point.  Maybe we should go see if she can tell us something.”

     Dean had half expected Sam to argue.  Expected to have to fight with him to get him to agree to go see Missouri.  Because somewhere inside Dean still wondered if Sam hadn’t made a deal of his own.  Why the hell else would they be sharing the same damn dreams?

     And Dean knew Sam couldn’t break the contract.  He’d finally had to tell Sam that there was a fucking clause in it.  If one of them tried to break the contract Sam went back to being dead and Dean would still be Hell-bound.  Sam hadn’t been terribly happy about that.

     _He said he didn’t make a deal.  Why can’t I just believe him?_

     Maybe it was the look of desperation he sometimes saw in Sam’s eyes when they were making love.  The fear that would flash through his eyes sometimes when he was watching Dean.

     Whatever it was, it left Dean feeling disquieted.  So he wanted to be sure.  If he died and then Sammy died what would be the fucking point to it all?

     “Tomorrow.  We’ll go tomorrow.  Okay?”

     Sam nodded.  He scrubbed a hand over his face again and glanced at the laptop.  Then he shook his head, closed it and headed over to the bed where Dean was sitting.

     As he walked over, Dean took a long look at his little brother.  Trying to save up images of Sam to hold onto once he was…well, gone.

     Sam moved with a hunter’s grace, even if he didn’t always care to be a hunter.  Dean loved to watch him.  Always had.  There was something compelling about Sam, something that drew Dean in and held him there.

     When Sam sat down Dean leaned over and kissed him before Sam could say anything.  Sam didn’t resist and Dean turned what started out as a fairly chaste kiss into something long and hot.

     Dean didn’t want to think.  He knew sleeping would be sketchy at best.  He knew something was going on with Sam.  And he hoped that Missouri would have some answers.  But mostly he just wanted to lose himself in Sam for as long as he could.  As long as he was here, as long as he was with Sam, he wanted to feel it.  To know it.  To hold on to it.

     So as they ended up wrapped around each other on the bed chasing a pleasure Dean had only ever known with Sam, he let all of the thoughts troubling him go and just gave himself up to his Sammy.

 

\--- -- --- -- ---

 

     “Well, I didn’t expect to see you boys.  What can I do for you?”

     Missouri let Dean and Sam in with a smile.  Sam smiled back.  Although Missouri had been their dad’s friend, Sam liked the psychic.  Dean didn’t smile.

     “Hey Missouri.”  Sam gave her a hug.  Dean just nodded.  “We kind of have an…issue we need help with.”

     Sam glanced over at Dean and saw the frown furrowing his forehead.  They had agreed not to mention their relationship to Missouri if it was at all possible.  After all, they were brothers.  Who were in love with each other.  And had a sexual relationship.  That just wasn’t something that was accepted.

     Sam suspected that Missouri would know whether they said anything or not.  But they had to take the chance.  Both of them wanted to know why Sam was sharing Dean’s dreams.  And they didn’t have anyone else to go to.

     Missouri ushered the brothers into her living room and gestured for them to sit on the couch.  She sat across from them and studied them.

     Sam fought the urge to squirm.  He had forgotten that Missouri could be intense when she wanted to be.

     “Well, it’s obvious something is troubling you both deeply.  Why don’t you tell me what’s going on and we’ll try and figure it out.”

     Sam glanced at Dean who was staring at the floor.  His eyes flicked sideways to Sam and their gazes held for a moment.  It was clear Dean didn’t want to be the one who started talking, even though this was his idea.  Sam sighed and looked back to Missouri.

     Haltingly, Sam started to recount events.  He told Missouri about being gathered with the other psychic kids and what Azazel told them their purpose was supposed to be.  He flushed a little at that part.  He still didn’t like that he had demon blood.  He felt tainted, as though nothing he could do would ever be good enough to overcome the evil that was in his veins.

     Sam faltered and glanced at Dean.  Dean was clenching his jaw tightly.  Sam knew Dean didn’t want to talk about the deal he made, but they had to tell Missouri if they wanted her to be able to help.

     He watched as Dean slowly looked at Missouri and told her about Sam dying in his arms, then the deal he made with the crossroads demon.  Sam glanced at Missouri and saw something flash in her eyes.  Compassion?  Pity?  He didn’t know, it was gone before he could make sense of it.

     Sam picked up the tale with the fact that Dean only has two weeks left and has been having nightmares of the Pit that Sam was sharing in.

     “And that’s what we need help with,” Sam finished.  “We don’t know why I’m having the same dreams as Dean.  Neither of us have slept a night through in several weeks.”

     “I just want to make sure those damn demons aren’t trying something underhanded,” Dean said.  “I made the deal to keep Sam alive.  I want to make sure he stays that way.”

     Sam felt his heart clench in his chest.

     _I don’t want to be alive without you!  Can’t you see that?_

     Missouri looked back and forth between the two brothers.  Her deep brown eyes met Sam’s for a moment, and Sam could feel the power Missouri held.  He could also tell that she was seeing far more than what he and Dean had said.  He felt uneasy.

     Missouri sighed a little.

     “Well, I can think of a few things that might cause this to be happening.  To know for sure I’d need to be able to read you both.  That requires a physical connection.”

     She held her hands towards Sam and Dean over the coffee table.  She waited as Sam and Dean glanced at each other then at her outstretched hands.  She didn’t push, just held her hands out patiently.

     Sam swallowed hard as he and Dean looked at each other again.  Sam was the first one to look back at Missouri then slowly place his hand in one of Missouri’s.  She smiled encouragingly.

     Sam watched as Dean fought with himself for a moment longer before placing his hand in Missouri’s other hand.  Sam knew Dean was afraid.  Afraid to find out what was going on.  Afraid that if Missouri knew the truth she wouldn’t help them.  Afraid that Missouri wouldn’t be able to figure out what was going on.

     Missouri gripped both their hands firmly and closed her eyes.  Sam could feel her reaching out to him and Dean.  It was a little eerie.  Apparently the fact that he hadn’t been having visions didn’t mean that his psychic powers were gone.  He wasn’t sure what to think about that.

     He and Dean were silent as Missouri did her thing.  Sam realized that he was afraid, too.

     _What if it has something to do with the demon blood in me?  Missouri didn’t seem to react negatively to that when I told her.  But, what if I’ve done something to Dean?  Shit, is that even possible?_

     Finally, after a long while, Missouri took a deep breath and opened her eyes.  She gently released the brothers’ hands after squeezing them briefly.  This time Sam could tell what it was he saw in her eyes.  Deep compassion, sympathy and just a little pity.

     “Well, I can tell you what’s going on.  I just don’t know how much you’re going to like what I have to say.”

     Sam felt Dean tense up next to him.  He knew Dean was suddenly wondering if they made the right decision coming to Missouri.  Sam wanted to reach out and rub Dean’s back to comfort him but refrained.

     “Doesn’t matter if we like it, Missouri.  We just need to know what’s going on and how to deal with it.”  Dean’s voice was gruff.

     Missouri glanced at Sam who nodded in acknowledgment.  They needed to know, no matter what it was.

     Missouri nodded her head slightly.  She settled into the chair she was sitting in.

     “You two have a very deep soul bond.  It ties you to each other, soul to soul.  Yours is deeper and more intense than any I’ve ever sensed before.  Because of the way you’re tied together, Sam is experiencing the nightmares like they were his own.”

     Missouri hesitated a moment.  “With your bond being as deep as it is, Dean, it means that…your souls are tethered together.  Where one goes, so does the other.”

     There was silence for a moment as Sam and Dean took that in.  Dean paled.  “You mean…when…when I go to Hell…”  He stopped, his green eyes wide, unable to finish the thought.

     “When you go to Hell, so does Sam.”  Missouri’s voice was quiet.

     Sam felt both terrified and elated.  He wouldn’t lose Dean!  He couldn’t lose Dean.  They were tied together.  But that meant Hell for them both.  That was the part that terrified Sam.

     “No, no, no, no, no!  Sam is supposed to stay alive.  That’s why I made the deal.  He’s not supposed to go to Hell with me!  You’ve got the break this…bond.  How do we break it?”

     Sam felt the words pierce him like a knife.  Dean didn’t want to be bonded to Sam?  Sam shook his head, trying to convince himself that the only reason Dean wants to break the bond is to keep Sam from going to Hell with him.

     _But I don’t care!  I don’t care if I’m going to Hell as long as I’m with Dean.  Why can’t he see that?_

     Sam stayed silent, watching Missouri instead.  She gazed at Dean with understanding.  But slowly she shook her head.

     “There is no way to break a soul bond, Dean.  Especially not one as deep as yours.  It just can’t be done, I’m sorry.”

     Dean stood up suddenly.  He looked at Missouri then at Sam.  His eyes lingered on Sam, anguish in their depths.  Sam couldn’t not respond to that pain.  He reached out for his brother’s hand and held on, forgetting Missouri for a moment.  He tried to put everything he was feeling into his eyes, that he didn’t care, that he’d follow Dean to the depths of the Pit if that’s what it took for them to stay together.

     Dean clutched Sam’s hand and paled even further.  Sam could tell Dean was only just now realizing how deeply Sam loved him, how completely he had given himself over to Dean.  Guilt started to creep into Dean’s eyes.

     Abruptly Dean pulled his hand away and without a word stalked out of the living room towards the front door.  Sam winced when he heard it open and slam shut.

     “Finding out you are soul bound is not usually easy to hear, Sam.  Give him a few minutes to himself while he lets it settle.”

     Sam looked back at Missouri, just now remembering her presence.  He felt a flush creep up his face, realizing that he’d given away more than he’d intended.

     Missouri smiled sadly.  “Sam, I know.  I knew the minute you two walked through my door.  It doesn’t really surprise me.  You two were always so close.  I tried to tell your father but he didn’t want to see what was right there in front of his face.  It’s the reason your bond is so very deep.”

     Sam felt his face turn even redder.  “I don’t exactly understand.”

     “Soul bonds occur for a lot of reasons.  They aren’t just between lovers.  Sometimes siblings or comrades-in-arms can develop them as well.  How deep they go depends on how deep the feelings run.  The bonds between lovers are usually stronger than others.  You and Dean, well there’s the bond that’s there because of your closeness as brothers, and the increased intensity of it because you’re lovers.  Like I said, I’ve never seen a bond as deep as the one you two share.”

     Sam swallowed uncomfortably when Missouri gently said the word ‘lovers’.  Not because he was ashamed of his relationship with Dean.  Never that.  But because Missouri was the only person other than themselves that knew and he was worried about what she thought of them because of it.

     He looked into her brown eyes, seeing compassion again.

     “You…don’t sound disgusted or judgmental.”

     Missouri smiled then.  “It isn’t my job to judge.  And any kind of love that produces so deep a soul bond is to be treasured.  It’s all too rare.  That you’re brothers…it’s kind of irrelevant in the face of your deep bond to each other.”

     Sam felt relief that was almost painful then glanced towards the front door.  He wondered how Dean was doing with this.  Knowing Dean, he was probably trying to find some way to blame himself.  He looked back at Missouri and frowned slightly.

     “Do soul bonds always drag the souls around together?  I mean…I died.  And Dean didn’t die then.  He wouldn’t have been able to make a deal if he had.”

     Missouri shook her head.  “Usually soul bonds aren’t as strong as the one between you and Dean.  I suspect that you didn’t become lovers until after you came back.”

     Sam flushed again.  That much was true.  Dean was rarely emotional but Sam dying and then coming back broke down a wall that had been between them for a long time.  The wall that had kept them from crossing the line and becoming something more than brothers.

     Sam glanced towards the front door again, feeling the need to go to Dean.

     “Go on, Sam.  He needs you, even if he doesn’t realize how much.”  Her voice was sad.  Sam almost didn’t notice.

     He tore his eyes away from the front door and looked at Missouri.

     “Thank-you,” he said softly as he stood.  He meant it for more than just telling him and Dean what was going on.  Also for her acceptance without censure.

     Missouri nodded and smiled sadly.  “Go, Sam.  I wish you both luck.”

     Sam nodded and left the living room, headed to his brother.

     Missouri sat there long after she heard the Impala start up and drive away.  Sat there thinking about the brothers and their deep bond that defied everything.  And she hoped they could deal with the consequences.

 

\--- -- --- -- ---

 

     Dean was silent all the way back to the motel.  He couldn’t think beyond driving.  Couldn’t think past the truth Missouri had told them.

     For once, Sam was quiet, not trying to draw Dean out to talk.  He didn’t seem to be brooding, but he did seem to be worried.  Dean saw Sam glance at him more than once from the corner of his eye.

     When they were back at the motel, Dean found himself on autopilot.  Park the Impala.  Walk to the room.  Unlock the door.  Walk across the room to the bed (he and Sam had stopped getting a room with two beds because there just wasn’t a point).  Stand there and stare.

     Dean stood there, still silent, trying to figure out what, exactly he was thinking.

     “Dean?”

     He felt Sam standing behind him.  Close enough that his warmth beat against Dean’s back.  Heard the note of concern in Sam’s voice.  He tried to shake himself out of this mental void he’d found himself in.  Then Sam spoke again.

     “I’m not sorry this has happened, Dean.”

     Dean felt his fist clench.  Slowly he turned to look at Sam.

     “Don’t you get it?  We’re talking about Hell, Sam.  Hell.  **Nobody** wants to go to fucking Hell.  I don’t want **you** to go to Hell.  **I** don’t even **want** to go to fucking Hell!”

     Dean shouted the last right into Sam’s face.  Sam didn’t even flinch.  Dean stared at him in amazement.

     “I don’t care where I am, as long as I know you’re there, Dean.  Hell, Heaven, anywhere on Earth.  It doesn’t matter.”

     “It does matter, Sammy!  It matters a whole hell of a lot.  I don’t want you to die, damnit!”

     Dean’s voice broke on the last of his words and to his horror he felt his eyes fill with tears.  He started to turn away from Sam and control the tears, but Sam wouldn’t let him.  Sam grabbed his shoulders and pulled Dean to his chest, wrapping his long arms around him.

     “You don’t have to shoulder everything by yourself, Dean.”

     Dean fought against Sam’s hold for a moment then finally just sagged in Sam’s arms feeling so tired and hurting so deep he thought his heart would break.

     _Sam, in Hell?  Why?  Why did this happen?  How the Hell did I manage to fail this badly?_

     Protect Sam.  That had been his one reason for living for so long it was almost unconscious.  He would do anything for Sam.  Do anything to protect his little brother.  But Dean couldn’t protect Sam from this because it was Dean’s love for Sam that had tethered them together.  Somehow he had done this.  Somehow he had damned his brother.

     _Oh wait, I kinda did that the first time I slept with him.  I should have been stronger, should have resisted what I had wanted for so long.  But I was so scared I had lost him for good._

     “Don’t Dean.”

     “Don’t what?”  Dean spoke into Sam’s shoulder, feeling a shudder wrack him.

     “Don’t start blaming yourself.  You didn’t do this to me.  I knew what I was walking into.  Hell, I wanted it for a long damn time and didn’t dare say anything to you.  So you haven’t trapped me or tricked me or anything else.  I love you.  I want to be wherever you are.  I don’t care about anything else.”

     Dean wanted to believe Sam’s words.  Wanted to so much.  But his heart hurt.  And he had failed.  He didn’t deserve anything Sam could or would give him.  So he stood there and let Sam hold him, but he fought the tears with everything in him because he didn’t deserve the luxury.

     Sam pulled a little ways away from Dean and tried to catch his eye.  Dean avoided it for a moment then decided why the hell bother.  He looked at Sam, green eyes to green-hazel, and tried not to let what he was feeling show.

     But Sam seemed to know Dean better than Dean thought he did.  His green-hazel eyes were intense and fierce.

     “I want you to hear me, Dean.  Really hear me.  You didn’t do this to me.  I walked into this with my eyes open.  Yeah, I didn’t expect to soul bond to you, but I don’t fucking regret it.  I could never regret or resent anything that tied us together.”

     Sam’s voice was earnest and Dean wanted to believe him.  He really did.  He continued to gaze into Sam’s eyes, suddenly not caring that the tears weren’t going away, were in fact starting to well up and spill down his cheeks.

     _Can I believe him?  Does he mean it?  This isn’t a mess I created?_

     Dean felt Sam’s hand on his face, wiping the tears away.  Dean let Sam pull him over to the bed and pull him down into the circle of his arms.  Sam held him close, one hand petting his hair, running long fingers through the strands.

     Finally Dean stopped fighting and let himself cry.  He knew he would hate himself tomorrow for being such a damn girl, but right now he was safe in Sam’s arms and that’s really all he could think about.  So for the first time in a long time he let down all his defenses and held on to Sam as the tears spilled hot and fierce.

     Sam was murmuring words of comfort and endearment into Dean’s hair.  Dean didn’t really pay much attention to the words themselves.  He was more focused on Sam’s voice.  The tone was warm and sympathetic and…yeah, loving.  Dean didn’t think Sam could sound like that after what they had learned at Missouri’s unless he had been telling Dean the truth.

     Dean knew Missouri had said more to Sam after he had walked out.  Knew Sam probably wanted to tell him about.  But Dean just didn’t want to deal with that tonight.  Tonight he just wanted to stay here, in the circle of Sam’s arms.  He wanted to convince himself to believe Sammy wasn’t lying about anything, that he was really willing to follow Dean right into Hell.

     So Dean cried himself out, letting Sam hold on to him tightly.  And he fell asleep, for the few hours he and Sam managed to get a night, with his head on Sam’s shoulder and Sam’s arms wrapped around him.

 

\--- -- --- -- ---

 

     Ten days later near sunset, Dean pulled the Impala into a motel that he and Sam had decided would be their final destination.  The hellhounds would find them wherever they were and it didn’t seem to make much sense to spend the last five days they had together on the road.

     Sam pulled his duffel from the back seat and thought about the last ten days.  They had gone to see Bobby for a few days.  Bobby knew the day was coming for Dean’s contract to be due and he was more gruffly affectionate than usual.  And he kept telling Sam that he’d be there…after.

     Dean had decided that even if Missouri had been able to accept their relationship without censure they shouldn’t tell Bobby the truth.  Sam didn’t think Dean was giving Bobby enough credit, but reluctantly agreed.  Since they had decided not to tell Bobby about their relationship, they couldn’t tell him about their deep soul bond.  And since they couldn’t tell him about that, Sam couldn’t explain that he was saying good-bye as well.

     Sam understood why they weren’t telling Bobby, but it didn’t make it easier for him to realize he wouldn’t be seeing the older hunter again.  There were so many things he wanted to say that he just couldn’t.  So the visit was bittersweet.

     Dean, after the night he broke down and cried (Dean fucking cried!), hadn’t put his defenses back in place.  He’d left himself open and vulnerable except when they were around other people.  Sam knew he was seeing a part of Dean that no one had ever seen before and he treasured every minute of it.  He stored every look, every touch, every kiss deep in his memory.  He didn’t know exactly what they faced in Hell, but he knew it wouldn’t be anything pleasant and he wanted those memories buried deep enough that they wouldn’t get burned away.

     As they walked towards their room, Sam wished he’d been able to tell Bobby good-bye.  He suspected Bobby figured he wouldn’t be seeing Sam for a while anyway.  He’d had this look in his eyes every time he looked at Sam.

     Dean and Sam entered their room and Sam shrugged his duffel off with a sigh.  He stretched and rubbed the back of his neck then looked for Dean.  He was taken by surprise as Dean was just suddenly there in front of him, reaching out to pull him close.  Dean tilted his head up to kiss Sam fiercely, desperately.

     Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and held him close as he returned the kiss, opening his mouth to let his tongue slide into Dean’s mouth.  Heat rushed through him as they kissed frantically, as though there was no time for anything else.

     They broke apart for a moment to breathe and then kissed again, and again and again.  Sam slowly walked them backwards to the bed, listening to Dean moan and whimper as he pulled Sam’s flannel shirt off and dropped it to the floor.

     When they reached the bed, Sam broke away from Dean, staring into his green eyes.  He felt a shiver run up his spine at the look in Dean’s eyes.  Hunger and love and desperation all mixed together with so much heat Sam could almost feel it.

    “Sammy.  Want you.”

     Sam kissed Dean again, a slow, deep kiss that only served to fan the heat inside of him into flames.  He pulled away so that Dean could pull his own shirt off and toed his shoes off.  Socks, too.  He watched as Dean lay down on the bed when he was down to nothing but his boxers.  He watched Sam’s every move and Sam reveled in the undivided attention.

     When Sam was down to just his own boxers he slowly crawled onto the bed.  He crawled up Dean’s body, trailing kisses and nips as he went, leaving hickies and bite marks behind.  Sam wanted to mark Dean as his, to leave something on him to show that Dean was spoken for.

     He reached Dean’s neck and latched on to a spot just above Dean’s collar bone and sucked and licked fiercely.  Dean tilted his head to the side so Sam could have better access.  Sam listened to Dean moan, felt Dean’s fingers in his hair, fisted tight.  Felt Dean arch underneath him, pressing their hard lengths together in a way that pulled a groan from Sam.

     Sam pulled away from Dean’s skin and looked up to meet Dean’s eyes.  Pupils wide, green just a thin ring, lust burning the air between them.  He claimed Dean’s mouth, sucked his tongue, explored every inch as though to memorize it all.

     Dean started a slow grind with his hips and Sam broke the kiss, gasping Dean’s name.  The press of his throbbing cock against Dean’s own was sweet torture.  He felt Dean’s hands on him, tracing meaningless patterns as he continued to grind against Sam.

     “Fuck, Dean.  Want you, so bad.”

     Dean buried his face in Sam’s neck.  “Take me, then.  Want you inside me, Sammy.”  The words were nothing but warm breath against Sam’s skin and he felt something tighten inside low down.  No matter how often they were together like this, hearing Dean say he wanted Sam made Sam just a little crazy.

     Sam pulled away from Dean and ripped Dean’s boxers off, then pulled off his own.  There were a million things he wanted to do to Dean, but right this moment he wanted, needed, to be inside of Dean.  Needed to feel Dean surrounding him, hot and tight and oh so good.

     “Shit, lube.”

     Sam started to move off the bed and Dean grabbed his arm, holding on.

     “I don’t wanna hurt you, Dean.”

     “Don’t care.  Spit’s fine.  Need you.”

     Dean’s voice was deep and hoarse and his eyes held onto Sam’s.  Sam moved back towards Dean.  “Are you sure?”

     As an answer, Dean grabbed Sam’s hand and shoved three of Sam’s fingers in his mouth.  Sam shivered and moaned at the feel of Dean’s tongue on his fingers, sucking and licking.  When Dean finally let go of Sam’s fingers they were almost dripping wet.

     Seemed Dean was serious.

     _Who am I to argue?_

     Sam moved down Dean’s body a little until he could reach his hand between them.  He rubbed at the skin just behind Dean’s balls with his thumb and watched as Dean arched and whimpered.  Then he trailed further back, into Dean’s crack until his fingers encountered Dean’s warm, tight hole.  Looking up at Dean’s face, he slowly slid one finger in.

     He paused when Dean started to tense up and waited until he relaxed again before going any further.  Sam finally had the one finger buried to the knuckle, and he slowly began to move it in and out.

     Sam loved to watch Dean writhe and moan as he slowly finger fucked him.  He was so beautiful in the throes of lust.  After a few moments he added a second finger, moving in and out and scissoring to open Dean up further.

     “Sammy!”  Dean’s voice was deep, demanding and urgent.

     Sam met Dean’s eyes, which were half-lidded, and they stared at each other for a long moment.  Sam nodded his head and pulled his fingers out of Dean.  Dean moaned and involuntarily rolled his hips.  Sam smiled a little before spitting into his hand and rubbing it all over his cock.  He and Dean didn’t often do this, usually used lube whenever possible, but apparently neither of them were patient enough for that tonight.

     Sam lined his cock up with Dean’s hole, teasing a little.  Dean cursed.  Sam laughed a little before beginning to push his way inside.  He paused as the head entered and Dean hissed, but when Dean said his name again, he started a slow push until he was completely sheathed inside Dean.

     He reached out to grab Dean’s hips and let Dean adjust, staring down at where their bodies joined and knowing he wouldn’t have given this up for anything, Hell or no.

     Dean rolled his hips a little and Sam started to move, reveling in the tight heat that surrounded him.  If he only had five days to live, he wanted to spend it like this, with Dean.

     His slow careful rhythm shattered when Dean propped himself up on his arms and started pushing back.

     “Don’t want slow, Sammy.  Fuck me hard.”  Dean green eyes were almost feverish and his words shattered the little control Sam had.  He started slamming into Dean hard and fierce, gripping Dean’s hips hard enough to cause bruises.

     Dean let himself fall back onto the pillows, groaning and cursing in pleasure.  Sam watched as Dean’s hand grasped his cock and started jerking himself off in time to Sam’s thrusts.  Sam bit his lip, trying to contain a moan.  He wanted to hear Dean right now, just Dean.

     He could feel a tightening all over, could feel his balls draw up and knew he was close.  His rhythm became uneven as the orgasm blindsided him and he felt his cock pulse deep inside Dean.  He came with Dean’s name on his lips.

     Dean wasn’t far behind Sam, and he painted his stomach and chest with come while he moaned and called out Sam’s name.

     Sam managed to hold himself up for a moment longer, then let himself collapse on top of Dean, not caring about the sticky come that was between them.  He kissed Dean’s lips, his cheeks, his neck.  Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and Sam realized that this is what home felt like.  Anywhere with his brother, as long as they were together, was home.

     “Dude, we’re gonna get stuck like this if you don’t move.”

     Sam pulled back and met Dean’s eyes again.  Dean had a small wry smile on his face.

     “You gonna let me go get something to clean up?”  Sam raised an eyebrow, remembering Dean grabbing hold of his arm earlier.

     “Long as you swear you’re coming right back.  We have a long night ahead of us and if we can’t sleep, I certainly have some ideas.”

     Dean’s voice was low and husky and one of his hands drifted down Sam’s back to cup his ass.  Sam grinned.

     “I bet you do.”

 

\--- -- --- -- ---

 

     One hour till deadline and Sam and Dean were just standing, waiting.  Dean was leaning back into Sam and Sam had his arms wrapped around Dean.

     They had gone to the post office yesterday and mailed a package to Bobby.  They had each written him a letter, and had included their father’s journal and the keys to the Impala.  Dean couldn’t stand the thought that the car might be left there at the motel to be stolen or towed, but didn’t want to just sell her either.  Sam was the one who came up with the idea to send the keys to Bobby.

     Dean hadn’t exactly liked the idea, but thought it was better than any of the others.

     It was the only time he and Sam had left the motel room.

     They hadn’t been having sex the whole time.  Most of it, yes, but they still had to eat (thank God for take-out) and attend to other bodily functions.  And there was a little sleep in there, the few hours either of them could manage.  Some of that time they’d just lay in bed and held each other, not talking at all.

     Dean had finally accepted that Sam being soul bound to him wasn’t his fault.  Or not alone anyway.  And that Sam truly didn’t blame him about the fact that they’d be pulled to Hell together.  But Dean had noticed something feral and fierce in Sam that got just a little stronger every day they got closer to the contract being due.

     He’d never thought of Sam as possessive.  But Sam turned out to be way more possessive than Dean had ever thought.  Not that he minded it.  He kind of like Sam leaving marks all over him, kind of wished he could show the world that they belonged together.

     But that feral side of Sam, Dean didn’t know what to make of it.  It scared him, but only a little.  He knew Sam would never hurt him.  But it made him start to wonder if Sam would hurt others.  Maybe not something they needed to worry about a whole lot since they were both Hell-bound, but Dean wondered if the demons were ready for Sam.

     It was one of the few thoughts Dean didn’t voice to Sam.  He didn’t know how to bring it up, for one.

     So now they stood there, Dean wrapped in Sam’s arms, and listened.  They could both hear the Hellhounds.  They’d been faint for most of the day, but as the clock ticked, they got louder and closer.

     Dean was as calm as he could be.  But he could feel tension riding Sam.  Not fear.  Something else.

     Dean turned his head to meet Sam’s green-hazel eyes.  He saw that feral…something…darkening in their depths.

     “You know I love you.”

     Sam was silent for a moment, his eyes holding Dean’s.  Then he nodded and said, “I love you, too, Dean.  Always.”

     Dean also nodded then turned to face the door.  The baying of the Hellhounds built, getting louder.  Dean could hear them snuffling at the window and the door.  They hadn’t bothered with salt lines today.  Why fight the inevitable?

     Dean couldn’t stop the flinch when the door slammed open, almost breaking the hinges, and the window shattered at the same time.  His eyes widened.

     “Jesus Christ,” he breathed.

     He and Sam had encountered Hellhounds once or twice before, and they were usually invisible.  Which made them way the fuck more dangerous.  But this time, Dean could **see** them.  Monstrously huge black dogs with glowing red eyes, fangs way longer than they should be and the ghost of flames wreathing their forms.  There were three of them at the door, entering the room slowly and growling.  Two came in the window.

     Dean wanted to grin a little.  So he rated five fucking Hellhounds, huh?  Guess they figured he’d put up a fight.

     He and Sam had decided not to fight.  It wouldn’t do any good in the end.  So neither of them even had weapons on them.  But as the Hellhounds paced closer, growling fiercely, eyeing Dean, Dean felt Sam tense even more.

     “No!  Mine!”

     Sam’s voice was not much more than a growl itself.  And when his words rolled over the Hellhounds, all five of them paused and focused on Sam.  Dean was shocked when they stopped growling as they stared at Sam.

     Dean turned his head again so he could see Sam and was a little freaked when he saw a golden glow mixed in with the green-hazel of Sam’s eyes.  He had his jaw clenched and all his attention seemed to be on the Hellhounds.

     Dean looked back at the Hellhounds in time to see them all drop to their bellies with little whines.  Without taking his eyes away from them he asked Sam, “Dude, are you doing that?”

     “You’re mine.  No one is taking you away from me.”

     Sam’s voice was still a growl and his arms tightened around Dean.  Dean wondered if he should be afraid.

     “Sammy, they’re Hellhounds.  You shouldn’t be able to control them.  Damnit, Sam!  You didn’t give in to your blood before, don’t do it now.”

     Dean felt Sam take a deep breath and some of the tension leaked away.  Dean expected the Hellhounds to resume their business of basically tearing them apart and dragging them to Hell, but the hounds stayed crouched on the floor.

     The front door closed suddenly, and Dean flinched with the slam.  He pulled a little bit away from Sam so he could turn around and face his brother.

     Most of the gold was gone, though certainly not all of it, as Sam met Dean’s eyes.

     “You do the door?”

     Sam nodded.  “Figured we didn’t need anyone coming by and trying to figure out what the hell we’re doing.  Can’t fix the window though.”

     Dean stared at Sam and Sam stared right back.

     “Did you know you could do all this?”  Dean waved an arm at the Hellhounds who looked for all the world that they were just lounging about waiting for something to do.

     Sam shook his head.  A little bewilderment passed over his features.  “I swear, Dean, I haven’t so much as tried to do anything since you brought me back.”

     “Then what the Hell, Sammy?”

     Something dark passed through Sam’s eyes.  “I would die for you or with you.  I would go to Hell for you or with you.  But no one is taking you away from me.  Ever.  The Hellhounds had come for you, Dean.  Not me.  Yeah, I would have died anyway.  But I’m not letting us be separated.  They either come for us together or they don’t get either of us.”

     Dean looked back at the Hellhounds.  They were watching Sam like he’d hung the moon.  “Okay, I get your point, but that doesn’t look like a temporary hold on those Hellhounds.  Why not just send them back instead of…what, taming them?”

     Dean looked back in time to see Sam look sheepish.

     “I told you, Dean, I’ve never done this.  Never even considered it possible.  It just happened when I picked up their intent.  I don’t know how to send them back.  I didn’t even know I could make them mine…which I seem to have done.”

     Dean stared at Sam.  Then he threw his arms up in the air.  “So now we have Hellhounds?  What the hell are we supposed to do with five huge Hellhounds no one can see but us?”  Dean paused.  “Why can we both see them, anyway?  Hearing them, I know that’s a side effect of the contract and shit, but seeing them?”

     Sam shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Jesus, Dean, I don’t have any fucking answers.”

     Dean turned away from Sam and studied the Hellhounds.  The one closest to Dean stared at him then yawned and licked its jowls.  Dean shook his head.

     “They’re not gonna stop with Hellhounds, Sam.  Eventually they’re gonna start sending demons after us.”

     “Then they’ll die.”

     Sam’s voice was that feral growl again and when Dean turned around the gold had grown just a little.

     _Should I be scared of Sammy?  No human should be able to control Hellhounds or threaten to kill demons.  And somehow I don’t doubt he’ll do just what he says.  Not just for the Hell of it, but to stay with me.  Damn._

     Dean closed in on Sam and wrapped his arms around his brother.  He wasn’t scared of Sam.  He knew to the depths of him that Sam would never hurt him.  But circumstances had now changed.  Dean’s contract had been rendered irrelevant.  What would happen to Sam?  Would he die again?

     Sam held on to Dean.

     “We need to talk.  Make some plans.  If you’re intending to take on all comers we need to be somewhere other than a motel.  And we need to figure out if this nullifies my deal because I’m not losing you anymore than you’re losing me, got that, Sammy?”

     Sam nodded silently.

     Dean pulled away then looked at the Hellhounds again.

     “Could they maybe wait outside, Sammy?  They make me a little nervous.”

     Sam nodded again and gestured to the Hellhounds.  All five left the room through the broken window.

     Dean watched the Hellhounds respond to Sam and took a deep breath to steady his nerves.  They needed to make plans.  They needed some place they could go where civilians wouldn’t get caught in the line of fire.  Someplace where five Hellhounds wouldn’t take up all the space.

    Then he turned and threw himself into Sam’s arms and kissed him fiercely.  They were both alive.  Dean wasn’t sure how long that would continue to be the case, but for right now they were alive, and that’s all that mattered to him.


End file.
